


A Kingdom of Conscience or None At All

by writteninhaste



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:29:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writteninhaste/pseuds/writteninhaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both know what the future holds. They both know what is coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kingdom of Conscience or None At All

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://merlinsgeekyfan.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://merlinsgeekyfan.livejournal.com/)**merlinsgeekyfan** in celebration for her birthday

Merlin lies on a bed of leaves, his legs tangled in a sea of Morgana’s skirts, and he has no idea how he got there. They are both fully clothed – which is a relief – but Morgana’s weight is pressing against his chest. The rise and fall of her pale breasts – trapped within the confines of her dress – attracts his gaze even as he looks into her face. She has one leg thrown possessively over his hips, and Merlin finds he cannot move. Morgana’s fingernails trail patterns on his cheek, and the Warlock knows that blood is left trickling in their wake.

She raises herself above him, pressing even more firmly down and Merlin loses all resistance when her breath ghosts wet and warm across his cheek. Morgana’s lips brush against the shell of his ear as she speaks and Merlin has to fight the urge to clutch at her waist. To pull her closer or to push her away, he has no idea.

“I dreamt of the Isle of the Blessed.” She whispers to him, teeth nipping at his skin. “I know what you are capable of, Merlin.”

Merlin wonders if this is a warning, a threat so that he will not hurt Arthur. He wants to protest that he could never hurt the prince. But Morgana has continued speaking, and all thoughts of danger flee from Merlin’s mind as her tongue flicks delicately against his skin.

“Uther is the only menace left within this kingdom, Merlin. Help me kill him and together we will bring magic back to Camelot.” Her voice is warm and thick like blood or fur – rubbing itself against his skin. Merlin closes his eyes and tries to crawl above her words. He is tempted. Camelot is ready to have Arthur as her king; the land chafes at the bit Uther has forced between her teeth, and Merlin knows it is not long before the very Earth decides to kill the king herself.

He knows that between his power and Morgana’s dreams they could force Arthur to his knees. Make him a puppet on their strings and have him dance whichever steps they choose. But Merlin understands that Arthur will be a great king without either himself or Morgana holding the reins. And above all else Merlin fears becoming Nimueh and Arthur is the only thing holding him in check. Morgana has no such restraints. If he and Morgana were to join forces, he worries they would try to eat the world. He thinks Morgana might succeed anyway.

Merlin feels the Seer’s breath fall in a scalding wave across his cheek, and turns his head away. Her anger and resentment strike him like a whip and he flinches.

“Who are you to refuse me?” She hisses at him, words spilling like poison into his ear, before her voice softens and becomes almost loving. “I am what I am. I offer you that.” She places her hands on top of his and together they dance along her curves. Merlin’s thumb caresses the outline of her breast. “I offer you the _world_.”

Merlin turns his head to look at her, his eyes already bled to gold. “Do you believe I am like Nimueh – that I would sell my soul?” He asks her quietly, ignoring the fact that his soul might already be too far gone to save.

Morgana bites viciously down upon his neck and Merlin cannot help but tense in pain. A line of blood runs hot and thick into his collar.

“There will come a time, Merlin,” she hisses at him, “when you will wish that you had done a little evil to do a greater good.”

Merlin gently pushes her off him and rises to his feet. The woman at his side is the same one he met when he first came to Camelot. He cannot trick himself into believing she has changed. It is simply that her agenda is more open – now that she sees him as an ally.

Merlin knows the plans that hide behind Morgana’s eyes. He has listened as she whispers to the wind and begs it take her words to Mordred – to the druid forces massing in the East. He knows where this path will lead her, even if _she_ has not Seen it yet.

“When you ride for war,” he tells her, “I will be waiting.”

The taste of Morgana’s laughter is as bitter as it is sweet.


End file.
